


Into Retirement

by Amuly



Category: Marvel 616, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Condoms, Domestic, Domestic Avengers, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Frottage, HIV/AIDS, Intercrural Sex, Kid Fic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-23
Updated: 2015-09-23
Packaged: 2018-04-23 01:53:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,083
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4858682
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amuly/pseuds/Amuly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dennis and Jack have a good life: Bucky is getting along just fine in Kindergarten, they own their own home in Florida, and even most of the neighbors don't entirely hate them. Steve and co decide to drop in on this idyllic homestead to see if retirement's really all it's cracked up to be.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Into Retirement

Jack grunted as Dennis fucked his thighs, body shaking with each powerful thrust. Dennis rained kisses down on Jack as they moved together: on his shoulder, across his back, tickling gentle caresses at the nape of his neck. Jack shuddered against this affectionate assault, leaning back in a silent plea for more. Dennis gave it to him, as always: he gave Jack all the affection he needed and more. His big hands ran over Jack's ass, his thighs, teasing at his hip bones, his groin before pulling back and away.

"Dennis..." Jack shook his head, words failing him.

“I've got you, I've got you,” Dennis panted against his neck.

Jack moaned at the sentiment, body singing, heart painfully full. Dennis' dick brushed Jack's balls with every thrust, its shaft grazed alongside Jack's ass, his thighs. Jack's hips jerked out of time, arousal churning inside him, coming in staccato waves. Dennis' lips brushed along Jack's neck, teeth grazing (gently, carefully) just under his ear. Jack jerked again, whining needily.

"You're close," Dennis breathed against the shell of his ear.

" _Yes_..." Jack moaned. His eyes squeezed shut, toes curling against his own arousal. His dick was leaking against his stomach, precome tickling his pubic hair. Another powerful thrust from Dennis, rattling Jack up to his damn teeth, sending arousal spiking inside him. "Yes, yes, I'm close, give me..."

Dennis' thrust stuttered, his dick slipping from between Jack's thighs for a moment. Jack started to groan in complaint, but Dennis was back in an instant, passing the box of off-brand Kleenex to him. Dennis groaned as he slipped his dick back between Jack's thighs and resumed his powerful thrusts.

Jack rode out those thrusts for a few more seconds, as long as he could possibly stand it. Then he groaned in defeat and grabbed three or four tissues from the box, wrapping them around his dick.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck..." Jack moaned as he stroked himself once, twice, and then came.

Jack was still coming when Dennis wrapped one big arm around his chest, pulling him even closer. Jack's body jerked with fresh arousal as Dennis took his earlobe gently between his teeth, nibbling on it as he fucked between Jack's thighs a few more times. He came with a grunt, arm nearly crushing Jack as it tightened around his chest. Jack reached up and held onto that arm, eyes sliding shut, brain buzzing with blissed-out white noise. Dennis was crushing Jack back against him, Dennis was pumping his come between his thighs, and Jack... Jack sighed, and melted. He felt good. He _was_ good. Everything was good, right now, in this moment.

And the moment after that, and the moment after that. But then, eventually, Dennis had to pull away, and Jack had to wipe down the rest of his own fluids from his dick. Dennis pressed a kiss to Jack's hair as he pushed himself up from the bed, like that would lessen the cold of his absence. It did, actually.

As Jack lay there and drifted, Dennis got busy. Snatching up the dirty Kleenex from Jack's fingers, tossing it in the bin. Padding off to the bathroom to clean up.

Dennis was fastidious like that. As he lay on the bed, hand resting lightly on his chest rising and falling with slowing breaths, Jack sent up a prayer of thanks for Dennis' fastidiousness (or, if not exactly a prayer, a... something or other. To whomever might be listening). Dennis and Jack had hooked up a few times back when they were both running with Cap, in the mid-eighties. Jack didn't get tested until ninety-two. That was a hell of a gap of time during which Jack couldn't really know if he had been carrying or not.

From what he'd heard, from whispers exchanged between Undergrounders and laments of the good folks working in clinics around the country, he wouldn't be alive today if he'd been carrying this disease since eighty-five. If he had gotten the disease that early, he'd be dead in an alley somewhere, sores covering his skin, rail thin... Jack shuddered and pressed a hand over his eyes. Bad thoughts. Bad thoughts, in the aftermath of something so good. No reason to go there right now.

Jack probably didn't have it to give to Dennis, then. But if he had, Dennis' care might have saved them. Always insisted on condoms, never liked the rough stuff. Jack had been with plenty of other guys back in the day (gals, too) who liked to bleed, liked to make him bleed. And back then they just didn't know, no one knew. Jack hadn't found his way to the Undergrounders then, he was still trying to be the good boy with Cap, pretending like he lived clean and wholesome. He'd heard rumors--everyone had. But he didn't see it up close, never looked death in the face like he did later.

Rolling on his side, Jack watched the light in the bathroom shift as Dennis puttered around. The faucet ran, then stopped. A few moments later it ran again. Dennis saving water. Jack smiled softly.

He wondered, sometimes, when it happened. Who it was. Jack didn't blame them, whoever it was. He was bitter, sure, but only on bad days (mostly). But he wondered for the sake of whoever it was who gave it to him: if they knew now, if they could afford the drugs, if they were still alive. If they'd infected anyone else. Wondered if it was someone he'd slept with or someone he'd helped. Someone who had hurt him, someone he'd fought.

Wondered if Steve's pure supersoldier serum would have beaten this disease, would have protected him against it. Wondered how much the corrupted serum in his veins helped him out, if it kept this disease at bay at all.

"You're still awake?"

Jack snorted up at Dennis as he stepped out of the bathroom, washcloth in hand. "Make me feel old, sounding surprised like that."

"You _are_ old," Dennis pointed out. He bent down to kiss Jack, slow and sweet. He tasted minty. Jack hummed into the kiss.

Dennis pulled back and bent to wiped between Jack's thighs. The warm, damp hand towel felt good on Jack's still-flush skin as Dennis cleaned up the mix of lube, come, and sweat. Jack lay back and stretched like a cat, smiling up at Dennis as he finished his ministrations. "You're older than me," Jack insisted. "If you count it right."

"Maybe up here." Dennis rapped his knuckles lovingly against Jack's temple. "But I think any way you count it--cryo or no--you're older than me."

Jack snorted again as Dennis plodded back into the bathroom, presumably to deposit the washcloth neatly into their "body fluids" hamper. Fastidious, Dennis. "No I'm not," Jack called after him. "I was born in forty-one, teamed up with Burnside when I was sixteen, cryo when I was nineteen, back out, about a year before we had the go to attack Steve, then got my head on straight-" he glanced over at Dennis' naked body as he exited the bathroom again. "Or, you know: something like straight. Two years later showed up at Steve's door, so about twenty-two around then. Worked with Steve four years before you showed up in that silly-ass costume..." Jack frowned. "How old were you when you met Steve?"

Dennis grinned at Jack. "Twenty-two. Hooked up with the Power Broker senior year of college, when I was trying to break into the NFL. After graduation I got a job in unlimited wrestling. Steve showed up at my gym a year later."

Jack stared at the ceiling as he thought. "...oh no." Dennis laughed as he rejoined Jack on the bed. Jack looked at him in horror. "I _am_ older than you."

"Not to mention I was in cryo myself for a year when you weren't."

Before Jack could lament his sudden ascension to the older man in the relationship, there was a shuffling at the door. Jack craned his neck, head cocked to listen. Dennis went still beside him.

Sure enough, a moment later a soft _tap tap tap_ against their bedroom door, followed by “Papa? Daddy?”

Dennis and Jack rolled off opposite ends of the bed, both reaching for boxers (in Jack's case) or sweat pants (Dennis'). Sufficiently clothed, Jack hurried over to the door and unlocked it. He swung it open to reveal his tiny little cherub, blinking sadly up at him with her big, brown eyes.

“I had a bad dream.”

Jack scooped Bucky up, kissing her cheek as she snuffled against him. Dennis hurried back to the bed, running a quick check over the sheets before giving Jack a pair of thumbs-up. Jack rolled his eyes, but smiled. Fastidious. He'd mentioned that before, right?

“Come on, you can watch Letterman with me and Papa.”

Bucky settled in “her spot” in the middle of the bed, head perched on Jack's arm the moment he slid in beside her. Dennis clicked on the TV and shut the lights before joining them.

Within moments Bucky was asleep, breathing softly under Letterman's top ten list.

"I liked Johnny better," Jack grumbled.

"And here you are trying to convince me you aren't old," Dennis whispered back.

Jack sighed and shifted, laying Bucky more against his chest so he could free his arm. He used his newly-won freedom to flick Dennis on the shoulder. Dennis winced dramatically and stifled laughter.

Jack smiled and settled back, hand carding gently through Bucky's hair. He had one eye on the TV, but the other was on Bucky's little chest, She-Hulk PJs rising and falling in little rapid cycles. Jack watched her until his eyes started to feel heavy, lulled to sleep by the hypnotic rhythm of her breathing.

Not long later, Jack woke enough to feel the bed shift and hear Dennis snap the TV off. Jack drifted back to sleep when Dennis rejoined them a second later. Fastidious. Jack smiled in his sleep.

* * *

 

"What if your pancake looked like... Captain America!"

Behind Jack, Dennis flipped a pancake dramatically onto Bucky's plate. Jack smiled as Bucky giggled and shouted: "Papa, that's not Captain America! That's Wolverine!"

The peanut butter spread smoothly over the white bread as Jack listened to the exchange.

"Darn it! What did I do wrong? I have the helmet wings, don't I?"

" _Noooo_ , those aren't _wings_ , those are Wolverine's ear-points!"

"Well I'll be danged. Guess I should leave the pancake making to you from now on, huh?"

Jack pressed the two sides of the sandwich together and picked up the butcher's knife. Bucky didn't like crusts: Jack thought they should make her eat them, but Dennis was willing to indulge her at least through kindergarten.

"I can't make _pancakes_ ," Bucky exclaimed with such indignation that it had Dennis and Jack laughing together.

A slip, a dull flash of pain. A half second when his body registered the pain and wrote it off as not noteworthy: extremity, not a vital organ, not large enough to bleed out, two stitches at most. Then the latter half of the second came, and Jack remembered where he was, who he was. What he had.

Jack stared down at Bucky's sandwich in dismay, two bright dots of blood soaking into the bread. Jack stuck his hand over the sink, took a moment to close his eyes and collect himself. It wasn't the end of the world. One wasted sandwich wouldn't bankrupt them. Bucky wouldn't even be late to school.

Jack closed his eyes and breathed until his voice was steady. "Dennis?

"Yup?"

A moment passed before Jack realized Dennis wasn't standing. Just as he turned from the sink Dennis' head popped up from where it had been bent over Bucky. He glanced back at Jack. Whatever he saw in Jack's expression had him scrambling up from their kitchen seat.

"Yeah?"

Jack nodded at the sandwich, two crusts cut off before it was abandoned. "Throw that out. And make her a new one?"

Dennis glanced over to the sink where Jack was running water over his finger. He nodded quickly.

"Sure. Do you need stitches?"

Jack tugged his hand out from under the water. It was barely even bleeding anymore. Would have been an utterly inconsequential bump in their morning routine, except. "No."

"Band aids are over the fridge."

Jack nodded. He knew where the first aid kits were. Most of them, at least.

Jack sat himself at the kitchen table with Bucky, who seemed to sense the change in mood. She glanced between Jack and Dennis, then at Jack's finger as he carefully unwrapped a band aid, paper towel under his hands to catch any spills.

"Are you hurt, Daddy?"

"Just a little boo-boo," Jack insisted, smiling for his daughter. "Look, see? Iron Man is making it all better."

From over at the counter Dennis snorted incredulously. Jack shot: "You're the one who bought the _mixed_ box."

"It's what they had! I wasn't driving to a different Winn-Dixie just for the Captain America (and friends) band aid set."

Bucky was still frowning at Jack's finger. Putting on a smile, Jack carded his uninjured hand through Bucky's hair. "Hey, sweetie. What's wrong? Daddy's okay, see?" Jack crooked his finger a couple times. He resisted the urge to make a redrum joke. Probably not the audience for that (though Dennis would laugh).

"How does your boo-boo get better if you can't kiss it?"

Jack glanced back at Dennis, who had frozen with one hand in Bucky's Captain America and Diamondback! lunchbox. They exchanged a look. Turning back to Bucky, Jack gently explained: "You know you can't touch Daddy's blood, remember?"

Bucky huffed. "I _know_. It'll make me sick. Like a scary superpower." Bucky's face screwed up. "But, it just... Daddy always kisses _my_ boo-boos better, and if I can't kiss _your_ boo-boos, then how are they supposed to get better?"

Dennis' hand was on his shoulder before Jack could come up with a reply. Smooth as could be, he leaned down and pressed a kiss to Jack's cheek. "Don't worry, munchkin. I'll give daddy a kiss for you. See? Is that better?"

Jack smiled at Bucky and bit down on a feeling that was too big, too overwhelming to let in just now. "All better."

Bucky nodded, apparently satisfied, and turned back to her pancakes.

Dennis joined them at the table, setting Bucky's lunchbox between Jack and himself. Jack reached out his pinkie to trace along the little plastic sides. He looked up to find Dennis watching him, a cautious, concerned look on his face. Jack smiled weakly and shook his head. It was alright. He was alright.

Later, after Bucky had scrambled onto the bus with nary a single look back, Jack trudged his way back to their home, hand deep in his pockets. One of the moms waved at him, and he nodded politely back, but didn't stop. He wasn't much up for playing suburban dad today.

Until he lifted his head as he approached his front step and saw Dennis waiting for him in the doorway. His stupid, sweet smile and shaggy red hair (lest anyone think Bucky was _either_ of theirs by blood) was a shot of warmth through Jack that had nothing to do with the muggy Orlando morning.

"Hey," Jack greeted him as he started up the two steps before the threshold.

"Hey," Dennis replied back, not making a move out from the doorway.

Jack resisted the urge to glance over his shoulder--the moms knew, everyone knew, it wasn't like anyone could fool themselves into thinking Jack and Dennis were two innocent "roommates" raising a girl together.

"Yeah?" Jack prompted, finally stepping level with Dennis in the doorway. Or as level as he ever got with Dennis' unfortunately impressive height.

Dennis just shook his head with a smile before leaning in. Back of his neck itching, Jack met him halfway for a chaste peck.

"I love you."

Jack tugged at one burning ear. "Okay, okay," he mumbled. "You know. Get inside."

Dennis' arms came up to wrap around Jack's waist. Jack used the closeness against Dennis, walking him backwards inside so Jack could close the door behind them.

"Guy would think you're ashamed," Dennis teased, already diving in for another, deeper kiss.

Jack snorted even as he leaned up to kiss Dennis back, licking inside his mouth. "Yeah right. Just don't need PTA moms yapping to their damn kids again and it getting around to Bucky."

"Bucky can handle herself."

"Yeah, and she's already had to prove it. Twice." Jack pulled back, finger smarting just a little as he untangled himself from Dennis. It was a level of pain he never would have registered before, but now every cut, scrape, and even bruise needed to be fastidiously catalogued and kept at the forefront of his mind. Jack sighed and checked his band-aid. Iron Man was still holding strong: no seeps or spills.

"Has something come up?" Dennis asked, wrongly reading Jack's bad mood. "Do we need to have another meeting-"

Jack shook his head. "No, no. Just..." Jack shook his head again and held up his finger. "Just getting to me, today. It happens. It'll pass."

Dennis was silent for a moment. Jack nodded and turned away. Yeah, that about summed it up. "Remember, I'm dying". An all too intimate _momento mori_ with every bump and cut. Every time they fucked. Jack started to move past Dennis, heading for their gym. Working up a sweat--the kind that didn't threaten to infect Dennis--would help pull him out of this funk.

As Jack was passing Dennis, his hand snaked out, tugging on Jack's faded old "I am not a crook!" shirt. His mouth opened, then shut. Jack eyed him suspiciously. Dennis looked like he was about to _tell_ Jack something. Something Jack didn't know. That was... odd. There wasn't much Dennis kept from a Jack, if anything at all. The guy couldn't even hide Christmas presents properly.

In the end, Dennis shut his mouth and shook his head. "Never mind. You're hitting the gym?"

Jack nodded, more suspicious than ever.

"Don't tire yourself out too much. I've got a project for you."

Arousal stirred at Jack's gut, but then he frowned. "This isn't a sexy project, is it?"

"No. It's a 'put up the Halloween decorations' project."

Jack rolled his eyes. "Why am I doing that?"

"Because I'm grocery shopping and cleaning the whole house today."

Jack grumbled good-naturedly before leaning in for one last kiss. "Fine. I guess I can contribute to this house." As he pulled away something occurred to him. "Wait: Bucky told you what she wanted to be?"

Dennis rolled his eyes. "Who does she _always_ want to be?"

Jack grinned. Well. They had kind of stacked the deck on that one.

It wasn't until Jack was halfway to the gym that he realized that Dennis' cleaning day was Thursday's, not Tuesday's. Jack glanced around the tidy home. What was Dennis up to?

One o'clock that afternoon and Jack found himself perched on a ladder, tacking up Halloween lights. Since when were Halloween lights a _thing_? When did this happen? Weren't Halloween decorations supposed to be a scarecrow in the front yard and some fake cobwebs? Jack grumbled as he struggled with the heavy work gloves. He wanted to just take them off, but Dennis had reminded him how sharp their gutters were in some places. The second time Jack's gloved palm had slipped across the edge he admitted maybe Dennis had been right.

The garage door rattled open just as Jack stapled on the last Halloween light. He started down, eyeing up the driveway as Dennis backed down it.

"Shopping?" Jack asked.

Dennis was looking casual. Far too casual. Jack's eyes narrowed. Definitely up to something.

"Yup!" Dennis popped the p.

Jack wondered if he should just put Dennis out of his misery and point out how obvious he was being.

Nah. Jack smiled and waved. "Alright, have fun! Oh, and pick me up a box of Trix? I promise to hide them from Bucky."

"Those sugar cubes aren't any better for _you_ ," Dennis pointed out, and oh, the light humor in his voice was _so_ forced. Jack blinked innocently.

"Yeah, but as _you_ pointed out, I'm an old man and as such get to decide what kind of junk I eat. Have fun at the store!" Jack added, just to twist the knife of Dennis' guilt.

Sure enough, Dennis hesitated and glanced around. Jack really should put him out of his misery--whatever Dennis was up to wasn't worth the grief it was causing him. But Jack's finger was throbbing after mucking around with the Halloween lights for an hour, so he was feeling a little mean.

"Okay! Um. See you two soon. Bucky's bus-"

"Is at three twenty five, I know, Dennis."

Dennis backed the rest of the way out of the driveway with Jack waving enthusiastically after him. Jack allowed himself to laugh once Dennis was well down the street.

Then Jack turned back to the pile of Halloween decorations and the rest of his mirth escaped him. What the hell was _that_? A... spider web tree net? Jack sighed and set back to work.

* * *

 

Jack kind of wished he smoked as he waited at the bus stop for Bucky. It would give him something to do, at least, while the other moms (and one or two dads) chattered away about school and neighborhood gossip.

"Jack, are you going to make anything?"

Jack shook himself from his mulish contemplation and glanced around. One of the moms--Gail, he thought--was smiling over at him. She was one of the good ones, he recalled. Bratty kid, but nice lady.

"Uh, make something for..."

"The Halloween block party! Saturday before Halloween. I'm making my famous spiced apple cupcakes with cream cheese frosting. They're delicious, I'll make sure I save you one. Or two!" Gail smiled welcomingly at him. Jack supposed that second cupcake was meant to encompass Dennis as well. That was nice.

"Um, I hadn't heard about it. Dennis probably is planning something. He likes all that... baking, you know."

One of the few dads at the bus stop made a noise. Jack ignored him. Couldn't beat bigotry out of people, and that was most of what Jack was good for.

Gail, to her credit, just nodded gaily. "Wonderful! If he needs anything, tell him to just ask. I have more cookery in my kitchen than I could use in a lifetime. It's a terrible addiction, I swear to goodness."

Jack smiled, less forced than he would have thought. "Thanks."

One of the dads, apparently no longer content with making disapproving noises, stepped towards Gail. "Alright, Gail. No need to encourage him."

Jack rubbed his eyes. Fine. He wanted to get into it, _fine_. Jack was having that kind of day.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

The dad looked surprised. Jack wasn't sure _why_. It wasn't like he'd been whispering.

"Just... If you don't want to, you don't want to. Gail can be pushy. Isn't that right, Gail?"

Jack rolled his eyes. "Oh, is that what you meant? Doesn't have anything to do with who's making the potluck, right?"

The other dad hesitated for a moment, before tersely admitting: "Well, we wouldn't want anything _unsanitary_..."

The bus stop erupted into shouting just as the bus pulled up. Gail was shoving her finger into other-dad's noise, issuing a strong reprimand from what Jack could tell. Some of the moms had started arguing with each other, gestures being thrown at Jack from both sides. Jack pinched the bridge of his nose between his fingers before he stepped in to defend Gail from that other-dad (not that she really seemed to need the help).

"Listen, it's not like you're going to catch gay just because you eat a fag's pumpkin pie." Jack resisted the urge to add "new club name," to the end of that. Dennis would have thought it was funny.

Other-dad's face screwed up in disgust. "Not worried about catching 'gay' so much as the other diseases you folk carry with you."

"'You folk'-!" Gail shouted.

"Bucky's told us the other kids, you know. Warned them. At least someone in the family has sense."

Jack sneered. "Well I'm glad to hear at least _one_ of the kids in Bucky's class knows what to do in an emergency. Because, in case you hadn't heard, it's not just us fags who have it anymore."

Gail gestured, palms pressing to the ground. "Okay but if we could watch the language as the children get off the bus..."

"No but it's you fags who started it!"

Just as Jack was winding up to deck this asshole, Bucky raced off the bus and to Jack's side.

"You don't _say that_!" Bucky hollered up at the dad. "That's a _mean_ word!"

"Grown-ups are talking," other-dad said dismissively to Bucky. And that, more than anything, got Jack's blood boiling.

"Don't talk to my daughter like that!" Jack took one intimidating step towards the guy.

"Teach your daughter some respect and I won't have to do it for you." Other guy didn't budge.

"I teach my daughter that _respect_ is earned, and let me tell you, buddy-"

"Jack?"

That... was not Dennis' voice. Oh, no. Jack turned to the car, already drooping under the shame of disappointing _that_ voice.

"Steve?"

Dennis was there, car pulled up on the opposite side of the street. But piled into the back seat were Sam Wilson and Rachel Leighton. And there, in the passenger seat, the man himself: Steve Rogers.

Jack's shoulders sagged and he pressed a protective hand to Bucky's shoulder. "Hey, uh. Steve."

Behind him, Gail leaned forward and stage-whispered: "On dear, don't tell me _that_ handsome man is a homosexual too?" She waved coquettishly.

" _Mom_ ," her kid groaned. The big guy stomped away for home. He had a Captain America backpack on. Jack grinned.

"No, but that nice lady in that back would fight you for him. And no offense, Gail, but she'd win."

Gail eyed up Rachel and nodded. "Oh, well. Suppose I'll just have to go on being happily married."

Jack headed for the car, Bucky in tow. "Hey, guys. Um. This is a surprise!"

Dennis smiled weakly up at him. Steve ducked so he could look up at Jack from Dennis' window. "I called the house a few weeks ago to set this up, and Dennis thought it would be nice to keep it from you."

Dennis winced. "I just thought-"

Jack smiled, knot in his stomach dissolving slowly. "It's great. This is a good surprise."

Because of _course_ other-dad couldn't resist getting the last word in, Jack heard him mumble something about "bringing that element into the neighborhood" as he started away with his kid.

Spinning around, Jack cupped his hands to his mouth. "And for the record!" Jack shouted. "You won't catch AIDS just because Dennis bakes you a damned pie!"

The car fell silent. Jack winced and turned to them. Dennis, Steve, Sam, and Rachel were all staring at him. Dennis pressed his hand to his eyes.

"Yeah!" Bucky shouted, breaking the silence. "You can only catch it from touching the blood and only Daddy's blood is bad, not Papa's!"

Jack groaned and rubbed his hands over his face. "Thank you for clarifying that, Bucky."

Gail skipped over and patted Bucky on her head. "Such a smart girl." Sticking her hand into the car, Gail smiled. "Gail. Block captain. Pleasure to meet you! Friends of Jack and Dennis?"

"Just in town for a few days, ma'am," Steve reassured her as he took her hand. Gail seemed to melt a little. Jack couldn't blame her.

Rachel grinned toothily at her as they shook, and Sam winked. Gail giggled and waved at them all. "Well, if you need anything just let me know!" She tapped Dennis' arm resting on the window frame. "And let me know if you need to borrow anything for the Halloween block party. I was just telling Jack, I have _every_ kitchen appliance you could imagine. Terrible addiction, bankrupting my husband, I swear."

Dennis smiled and nodded. "Thanks, Gail. I'll keep it in mind."

Jack smiled at the car as the rest of the parents dispersed from the bus stop. After a moment he reached down and scooped up Bucky. "So, um. Back to the house?"

* * *

 

Sam and Steve were both cooing over Bucky, playing in her superhero pup-tent in the backyard while Rachel sat on the porch and eyed them suspiciously.

"You don't think Steve wants one of those, do you?" she asked.

Jack snorted. "One of those pup tents? It's alright, I'll hook you up: fourteen ninety-nine at Toys R Us."

Rachel laughed but shuddered as Bucky screamed in delight at something or other. A moment later she burst out of the tent, Sam in hot pursuit. "It's the tickle monster!" Sam called after her as he lumbered around the tent.

Bucky screeched and peeled across the yard, still full of boundless energy even after a day at school. Dennis stepped through the sliding glass door and set a pitcher of iced tea on the table between them. He glanced out the screen door at the pitched battle unfolding between the forces of Bucky and her sidekick Steve versus evil tickle monster Uncle Sam (Steve still giggled every time Bucky called Sam that). Then Dennis joined Jack and Rachel at the grown-ups table.

"So? How are things?" Dennis asked.

"Rachel wants a dozen fat babies," Jack announced. He received a truly painful knuckle-punch to his tricep for that. He winced. Almost worth it.

" _Never_ ," Rachel moaned in horror. "Forget those lame Halloween decorations out front, _that's_ what's got me terrified." She nodded out back where Steve was smiling his cheeks off, dashing around with Bucky. "The sight of Steve with a kid."

"You think he really wants that?" Jack asked.

Rachel nodded. "I think he does. But I think he's also resigned himself to never having it, or to the fact that he'd never be able to maintain it." Her mouth twisted. "And I'm not sure what's the right thing to do for that. If he should be with someone who encourages him to try for the white picket fence, two point five kids, the whole deal. Can you imagine Steve with a dog? A nice golden retriever or yellow lab or something? Or if it's better he's with me, someone who he won't tantalize himself daydreaming about the life that could-have-been."

Jack hummed, not sure what he could add to that.

"I mean, I don't know how you guys do it. How do you not go on patrol every night, bust up cocaine smugglers at the elementary school, whatever?"

Jack and Dennis both snorted and exchanged a look. They were both remembering how long it took them to break the habit of busting in on crime rings on accident.

"It takes work," Dennis told her, honestly. "And a redirection of energies. We still are fighting the good fight: I run the homeless shelters for the county, and Jack works with the foster system. And occasionally, yeah, we _do_ fall into the international crime conspiracy and have to crack some heads."

"Easier to stay out of those sorts of fights when you know you put everyone at risk just by being there," Jack pointed out. Rachel's mouth turned down in sympathy. "I'm no Steve: when I fight I tend to bleed all over everybody. Get my ass kicked too much not too. It's better this way, now."

"It doesn't drive you crazy?" Rachel prodded. Outside, Bucky screamed in delight as Steve lifted her over his head, flying her around the backyard. Sam chased them with a howl. It would appear he was now also a werewolf.

"She helps," Jack murmured, watching. He turned back to Rachel and shrugged. "Probably also helps that we were never much good at the whole superheroing thing to begin with."

"Hey!" Dennis protested. Both Jack and Rachel turned to look at him until he shrugged sheepishly. "Well. Maybe."

"You got captured and almost killed your first mission," Jack points out.

Dennis scoffed. "Well come on, _everyone_ almost dies their first mission."

"And then you ended up frozen in a block of ice after maybe two months of tooling around with Steve."

"Yeah, but _he_ did too, once. So. I'm in good company." Dennis raised an eyebrow at Jack. "And at least I wasn't taken in by Madcap. Or had my butt kicked by some Serpent Society stooges. Present company excluded."

Rachel raised her hands. "Of course."

"I saved _you_ from getting your lights choked out, if I'm remembering things right..." Jack mused.

"We can call it square," Dennis compromised.

The screen door banged open as Bucky burst in, Sam hot on her tail. Jack braced himself just in time as a ball of dark-haired fury leapt into his stomach.

"BASE!!" She screeched. "Daddy is base!"

"I'll get you next time!" Sam promised, fist shaking to the sky.

Steve stumbled in after them, wiping sweat from his brow. Jack raised an eyebrow at him and Steve shook his head. "I don't think anybody made in Brooklyn was meant for this heat. Bathroom?"

Dennis stood. "I'll show you."

Steve patted at the back of his neck in dismay. "I think I'm sunburned."

Jack laughed after them. "Dennis, show him where we keep Bucky's sunscreen!"

Sam took Dennis' seat at the table and reached for his own glass of ice tea. "Don't tell Irish-skin in there, but I think this heat is even getting to _my_ beautiful dark be-hind."

In Jack's lap, Bucky giggled as she peered over the tabletop. Sam made a face at her, which Bucky returned with interest.

"So how are you guys holding up down here? Haven't melted in this heat, as far as I can tell?"

Jack snorted and bounced Bucky on his knee. "We keep getting asked that, like Dennis and I were forced into retirement." Jack exchanged a look with Rachel. "We're doing exactly what we want to be doing. We're where we want to be."

Sam squinted out at the backyard. "And why can't 'where we want to be' include a pool? Damn."

Jack cleared his throat and nodded significantly down at Bucky. Sam winced. "'Dang.'"

"We have a pool! But it's away because now it's fall," Bucky explained.

Sam and Rachel both shot incredulous looks out the porch screen. Jack shrugged. "It gets chilly in the mornings? Kind of. Er. Like, seventies." He sighed. "That thing is a 'female-dog' to clean, alright? The more months we have that mosquito breeding ground folded up and put away, the better."

Bucky smiled slyly from just above the edge of the table. "Daddy said a fake bad word. But I know what he meant."

Jack groaned and tugged Bucky's ear. "Yeah yeah, you're a smarty-pants."

Bucky beamed. Yes she was.

"So did you guys eat? You want to do something nice for dinner? Central Florida isn't exactly a cultural hotspot, but we could get some Outback or something?" Jack glanced at his mixed company. "We probably shouldn't subject you to southern suburban pizza or Chinese."

Sam shook his head. "No, sir. Steak house sits fine by me. I'm sure Steve would be fine with it--provided you let him pay."

Jack rolled his eyes just as Steve and Dennis rejoined them on the porch. "Pay for what?"

Jack noticed with some delight that Steve's nose _was_ already smattered with the beginnings of a sunburn. At least that was one thing about Steve that wasn't so perfect.

* * *

 

Bucky took an extra hour to put down with all the excitement of having guests staying over. Jack shut the door carefully, her breathing finally evened out and soft in sleep. The guest shower was running, and Rachel was in the living room flipping through their stolen cable.

Jack headed for the kitchen.

"How are you two doing?" was the first thing out of Steve's mouth as Jack joined them over coffee.

Jack sighed but eased into the chair next to Dennis. He could see Steve holding back the question all through dinner, so he was expecting it by now. Pointedly Jack took Dennis' hand and held it on his thigh.

"We're doing well. Dennis has his work with the homeless, I'm working with the foster program here. We're doing a lot of good, I think. And keeping out of the game--as much as any of us can."

"Bucky's a fine girl. You're clearly doing a good job raising her. You should be proud."

Jack sucked in a breath and thought dour thoughts until he had his voice back under control. Under the table, Dennis' hand squeezed tight.

"Thanks, Steve. I think we're doing right by her."

Steve nodded, smiling easily. Jack's face heated as he basked in the warmth of that approval. He wasn't some star-struck kid anymore, it shouldn't matter. _Steve_ shouldn't matter to him like this.

But that was the thing with Steve, wasn't it? He mattered, his opinion of you mattered. It was what made Steve, Steve.

Steve's expression grew a little more serious as he sipped at his coffee. "But what about that commotion at the bus stop? That's not a regular thing, is it? You know, I could give a talk--as Cap, I mean-"

Jack and Dennis both shook their heads. "No, Steve," Jack insisted. "It's not that regular. Honestly, the folks down here are probably better than most. They know us, they know Bucky, they know the whole..." Dennis' hand squeezed his again. "Situation. Much as they need to. They could be giving us a hell of a lot more grief than they do. And Bucky gets along fine with most her classmates."

"Except the ones she's moralizing to," Dennis mumbled with a smile.

Steve's eyes crinkled up at that, getting that wistful look in them that would have Rachel heading for the hills. "Well. That's probably a sight. She's small though--she doesn't get picked on, does she?"

Dennis shrugged. "She's pretty average size for her age. Pediatrician thinks she'll end up a couple inches above: five seven, maybe five eight. With her incomplete family history it's hard to tell, but. She's not small."

"And even if she was, I think it's different for girls," Jack pointed out. "More likely to be picked on for being big than small. For being loud than quiet. You know."

Steve nodded. "But she's not a quiet one, is she?"

Jack snorted ruefully. "No. But I think we all knew that ship had sailed."

"The minute you stuck a domino mask on her," Steve agreed. His happy expression twisted a little, and he amended himself: "Which, you really never should have carried a _baby_ around with you on missions, Jack. I never should have let you. I don't know what I was thinking."

Dennis shot Jack a look and Jack shrugged. "It worked out alright. And I promise I'm not bringing her along now. Worst case, we'll be having to drag her _out_ of crime fighting when she's a teenager."

Steve thumbed at the Avengers placemats on the kitchen table. "Well, whose fault will that be?" They laughed for a moment, before Steve grew more serious. "You two do seem to be getting along well. I'm happy to see that."

Jack and Dennis glanced at each other. Dennis was the first to prompt: "But..."

Steve shook his head and leaned back. "No buts. Just genuine concern for some old friends. And joy to see you doing so well." Steve glanced around the tidy kitchen, the cozy little home. "It's a wonderful life you two have built yourselves. I'm happy to see it." Steve stood, coffee mug in hand. "And just want to remind you that if you EVER need anything: money for medication, school supplies, these programs you're running-"

Jack rolled his eyes and stood with Steve. "Yeah, yeah: you're best friends with Tony Stark, we know the drill."

* * *

Jack slipped into bed and, after a moment, reached for the book on his nightstand. It was an Alexander Hamilton biography that he had been spending months plodding through. It was a stellar book, but between Bucky and Dennis and everything else, it wasn't like he was spending his days lying out on the beach.

"Hey," Dennis murmured as he joined Jack under the covers. Jack tilted his head for a kiss, but kept reading. He was just getting his place back: Hamilton was in the middle of writing the Federalist papers with Madison. It didn't sound that riveting, but the author really painted a picture of the mad evenings Hamilton spent scribbling away the most influential essays in the history of this country--maybe even the world--wedged between a full-time job as a lawyer, representative to a fledgling congress, and father of an ever-growing brood. And this guy didn't even have a supersoldier serum in his veins.

Dennis' perfunctory peck on the cheek turned out to be anything but. His hand had slipped to Jack's thigh without him noticing, and was sliding its way up. Jack shifted and nudged Dennis with his shoulder.

"Jack..." Dennis murmured, nosing at his throat.

Jack shifted again, nudged Dennis again. Dennis' hand squeezed higher.

"Stop it," Jack grumbled. He was starting to grow erect even though his mind was decidedly uninterested tonight.

"Gorgeous, what's wrong," Dennis asked with a smile. He kissed a path up Jack's jaw, pecking needily at his mouth when Jack continued to ignore him. His ministrations grew less insistent, though, as he caught onto Jack's mood. "Jack?"

Gritting his teeth, Jack kept his eyes firmly on his book. "Steve's two doors down."

"Really?" Dennis sat back in surprise. "You don't want to..."

"No."

" _You_ don't want to."

Jack huffed and finally set his book across his lap. "No, I don't. It's..." Jack rolled his eyes, mostly at himself. "You know my whole... Cap. Thing."

Dennis flushed about as red as his hair and rubbed the back of his head. "Well, yeah. But it's not like I'm planning on slapping on the cowl tonight and make you beg for," Dennis lowered his voice to a whisper, "Captain America's thick, all-American Johnson."

Jack smacked Dennis chest a couple times and glared at him. "He's got super-soldier hearing."

"And this is our home. Where we live as a couple. I think Steve figured out we have sex a while ago."

"Yeah, but that doesn't meant I want to give him front row tickets."

Dennis stared at Jack for a moment before sitting back on his side of the bed. "Huh," was all he said for a moment. Jack waited. A minute later Dennis mused: "If anything, I figured you'd want to do it _because_ Steve was just two doors down."

Arousal slammed into Jack, and he had to rest his book more strategically over his lap.

"You make it sound like I'm some rebellious teen," Jack pointed out. And didn't deny it.

Dennis shrugged. "Well, I guess you _are_ the older one out of the two of us. Natural that you would be more mature about this. I mean, I guess it is pretty immature to want to see how quiet you can be, getting turned on by the chance of getting caught. It's definitely immature to think it's hotter just because Captain America is just a few doors down, probably up reading the Constitution as he sips a glass of warm milk before bed. Thinking of him all flustered-"

"I know what you're doing," Jack grumbled, though it came out more like a whine. He hissed and adjusted his book again.

"I'm just saying, if we fucked right now, Captain America might hear it. He'd pretend not to, maybe even put a pillow over his head. But he'd have to listen to your moans and grunts, listen to our panting breath, listen to the bed creak--you know I need to fix those slats one day. And with that supersoldier hearing he'd probably be able to figure out exactly what position we're in, who’s fucking who. I guess that's why you don't want to do it: don't want Cap to know what a beggy bottom you are-"

Jack launched himself at Dennis, book flying off the bed with a thump. Dennis laughed as Jack shoved him into the headboard and pinned him there, holding him down as Jack straddled him.

"Show _you_ a beggy bottom," Jack growled as he took their erections in hand and stroked them together.

Dennis breathed in deeply as Jack thrust against him, thumb rubbing against the head. After a few strokes Jack reached over to the nightstand and grabbed a condom. He slid it over his own dick, wrapper thrown somewhere onto the floor. Their dicks jerked in Jack's hand as their arousals grew. "I hate you," Jack grumbled as he pumped his fist hard.

"Only when I'm right," Dennis countered, leaning up for a kiss.

Jack grunted something that wasn't a denial as he kissed Dennis back, panting into his mouth. Dennis broke the kiss, breathing hard. "Damn it, I turned myself on too much."

Jack's hips rose and fell as he fucked himself against Dennis' dick. Dennis reached over to the nightstand and squirted some lube onto his palm. His big hand joined Jack's, wrapping tight around whatever Jack's hand hadn't covered, sealing both their erections inside wet heat. Jack bit down on a moan as he fucked up harder into that tight, slick hole their hands made.

"Be careful, Captain America's just two doors down," Dennis reminded him, whispering hot breath against his ear. Jack shuddered.

"You're such an asshole," Jack whispered back. His breathing sounded too loud. Their bed was starting to squeak. Jack bit down on a whimper. Damn it, damn it, damn it.

"You think Steve can hear us? You think he knows," Dennis whispered, and a burst of precome spurted out of Jack and into the condom. He hissed and shook his head. "You think he's begging Rachel for sex right now, just so he can get off?"

"I don't think Steve ever needs to beg Rachel for sex," Jack pointed out, just to be a brat.

"You think he's trying not to think about us, rock-hard in his star-spangled tightie whities? You think he's asking Rachel to fuck him up the ass, because he likes the way it feels?"

"You're filthy. When did you get this filthy?" Jack gasped. He didn't remember Dennis starting out this filthy. Was it Jack's fault? He hoped he could take credit for this. “Tomorrow night I’ll fuck you in the ass. You want that?”

Jack jerked against Dennis. Okay, he wasn’t about to beaten at this by _Dennis_. Sweet, charming, loveable Dennis.

Grabbing Dennis’ shoulder, Jack jerked them hard. He looked straight into Dennis’ eyes as he said: “Tomorrow night, I’ll lie down in bed, pretend to be asleep. You come in, cowl on. Like Steve wanted to ask me to go out on patrol. Then…” Jack leaned in, body trembling with an effort to keep his voice down, with the fear that Steve really _would_ hear them just a few doors down. “Then, you slide into bed with me, and you start touching me. Playing with me. Like you can’t keep your hands off me, even though it’s wrong.”

“I can't keep my hands off you,” Dennis promised him, looking up at Jack with that familiar glow of lust and adoration. All that fondness and love Jack was so certain he wasn’t meant to have, could never receive. Jack’s hand clenched hard against Dennis’ shoulder as he fucked against his stomach.

“I’ll… I won’t wake up. Or… or maybe I will, and I’ll be confused.”

“I’ll tell you that it’s just a dream,” Dennis planned it out with him. He leaned up for another kiss and Jack met him, tongues tangling sloppily as they both neared their end.

“This is the dream,” Jack murmured. His face heated, eyes stung with the raw honesty of his own words. Overcome, Jack buried his face in Dennis’ neck and breathed hard.

Dennis came first, jerking and panting. The second he was done he grabbed Jack with both arms and flipped him, laid him out on the bed. Hovering above him, Dennis took his erection in one hand. The other he wrapped around Jack’s back, holding him close.

“I love you, I’ve got you,” Dennis promised him. Jack blinked back tears and shook his head. “I love you, I love every inch of you. I love our life. This is my dream.”

Jack came into the condom, shaking apart. He didn’t make a sound, thankfully: he throat was too blocked up with emotion for that. Dennis disposed of the condom while Jack was still shaking, went into the bathroom and was back with a washcloth before Jack could draw a steady breath.

When Dennis started dabbing Jack’s face with the washcloth Jack came to and pushed him away. “Didn't you just clean up our come with that?”

Dennis grinned and pointed at a second washcloth on the floor. “Brought two.” Jack laid back down on the bed, arm over his face. “Clever asshole.”

Dennis left the bed one more time and returned, scooping up Jack in his arms as he did so. Jack grumbled but didn’t pull away. Dennis settled in against his back, one too-heavy thigh over Jack’s, too-big arm over his waist. Jack didn’t mind. He didn’t even mind being the little spoon. Not if the big spoon was Dennis.

A few blissful minutes of silence, until: “You don’t think he heard us, do you?”

Jack laughed and laughed, throwing an elbow back at Dennis for good measure. “ _Now_ you’re worried?”

“I don’t _actually_ want Steve to hear us!” Dennis complained. “I just said that because I knew it’d get you in the mood!”

Jack snorted and rubbed his face against his pillow, relaxing again.

Until a few minutes later, Dennis whined: “No but really: you don’t think he heard us, right?”

* * *

 

Steve Rogers licked his thumb and turned the page in his George Washington biography.

Next to him, Rachel stuck her hand down his PJs. "Come _on_ , Steve-"

"No."

" _Hmph!_ "

* * *

 

The bedroom door down the hall opened, then clicked shut. Jack rolled over, checked the clock. Five am. Bucky wouldn't be up, would she? Maybe she had a nightmare...

Heavy footsteps down the hall--heavier than any five year old. Jack groaned and let his head drop back to his pillow. Steve, right. They had three superheroes staying in their house--of course they'd be up all hours, going out for runs or whatever.

Sure enough, a few seconds later Jack heard the front door click open and shut. He closed his eyes and pressed back against Dennis.

"Bucky?" Dennis murmured, starting to stir himself.

"Steve, or Sam. Going out for a run."

"Wha'time-"

"Five. Go back to sleep."

Against his back, Dennis mumbled something else before relaxing against him. Jack breathed deep, body molding back against Dennis' on the exhale. Dennis' arm tightened around his waist, and Jack's foot rubbed over Dennis' ankle. Around them, the house fell quiet again.

Six thirty was another story. Jack scrambled after Bucky, toothbrush in one hand, shirt in another. "Bucky, get back here!"

"No! I want Uncle Steve to brush my teeth!"

Jack threw his hands up in frustration. "Uncle Steve is probably halfway down the Econlockhatchee! Get your butt back here now!"

" _No_!"

"Don't make me count, Bucky. I'll do it."

" _No_!"

"One... Two..."

Jack stormed into the kitchen, looking high and low for his little brat. Rachel was at the kitchen table, sipping coffee and rustling the newspaper. She raised her eyebrows at Jack.

"Trouble in paradise?"

"Where is she?"

"See why I lack any interest in... this?" Rachel gestured disdainfully at the chaos around her. Then she flicked her fingertips out the other door, towards the laundry room. "That way."

Jack saluted her with Bucky's t-shirt, then started out the door.

"Two and a half..."

"I wanna do it!"

Jack stuck his head in the laundry room. There was Bucky, caught trying to scale the detergent shelf above the washer. Jack eyed the screws in the drywall. That wasn't going to hold.

"You want to brush your own teeth?"

Thankfully Bucky lowered herself from the shelf back onto the washer machine. Jack relaxed a hair.

"Yes!"

Holding out her toothbrush to her, Jack shrugged. "Fine. Do it yourself."

Bucky leapt from the washing machine and snatched the toothbrush from Jack's hand in one, almost fluid, motion. She darted off through the house, hopefully to the bathroom where the toothpaste was.

Dennis stuck his head in the laundry room. "Jack?"

Jack waved him away, before collapsing manfully against his chest. "She's just being bratty because she wants to hang out with the grown ups."

"Well, why don't we take her out of school one day? I wouldn't be able to concentrate either if I were her. Not with all this excitement."

Jack shook his head. "Not today. We take her out today and we're rewarding her for bad behavior."

Dennis smiled. "Tomorrow, then? We can all go out together, do something fun. Disney World? Gerry down at the shelter works there--he can always get us tickets."

Jack considered this. It would give them something to do with Steve and the gang. And Steve, though he'd never admit it, was a sucker for Disney. He probably had spent the entire flight down stubbornly telling himself not to ask, that he was here to see friends, that it would be selfish to go to the park, that Dennis and Jack probably couldn't afford it. Jack rolled his eyes. Sounded right, knowing Steve.

"Yeah, go ahead and check with Gerry, see how many tickets he can get us. I'm sure Steve wants to go." As Dennis turned to leave the laundry room, Jack grabbed his arm and tugged him back in. "But no telling Bucky until _after_ she comes home from school today. I don't want her thinking we're rewarding her for being a brat."

Dennis snorted and nodded. "Yeah yeah, I get it." Dennis ducked his head for a quick kiss, which Jack returned happily. When they broke apart Dennis had somehow managed to snatch the shirt from Jack's hand. "I'll finish getting our little hellion ready. You start breakfast."

Jack hesitated, remembering the incident yesterday. "Do you really think-"

Dennis looked at him. "I don't foresee you bleeding all over bacon, no. So I think it's fine. Just stay away from the knives, you klutz."

Jack ducked his head and smiled. Okay, yeah. Maybe he was being a little overly skittish. One little slip-up, compounded with the asshole at the bus stop yesterday, had put him in that mindset. Time to get over it.

Jack stepped into the kitchen just as the front door opened and Sam strolled in. Jack blinked. "Oh, I thought Steve was out."

Sam snorted, lifting his shirt to wipe his face. "He is. We left together, but I lost him somewhere around... The end of the damn street. You know how he is. He'll be back. Eventually." Sam pointed in the direction of the second bathroom. "Shower? I'm not going to use up Bucky's hot water, am I?"

Jack waved Sam in. "Help yourself. Bath time is at night, and Dennis and I don't have anywhere to rush off to."

Sam nodded his thanks and jogged off to the bathroom. Jack continued into the kitchen, where Rachel was still skimming through the _Sentinel_. She glanced up when he started pulling bacon and eggs out of the fridge. "Oh, is this a full-service B &B?"

Jack stuck his tongue out at her, which she returned. Then he set about making breakfast.

Steve _almost_ ruined everything by showing up just as Dennis was taking Bucky out to the bus stop. Bucky started kicking up a fuss about wanting to spend the day with her Uncle Steve, until finally Steve scooped her up and took her to the bus stop himself.

"Steve, really, you don't have to-"

Steve shook his head. "It's no bother at all. And I wouldn't mind running into that fellow from yesterday, see what words he has to say to me."

Jack stifled a laugh over the frying bacon. "Alright then. Good luck."

As the pair of them left, Jack glanced out the kitchen window. Bucky was chittering away excitedly to Steve, _Captain America and Diamondback!_ lunchbox in one hand, Steve's hand in her other, _Captain America and Bucky_ backpack knocking at her knees as she hopped along. Jack committed the moment to memory. Who would have ever thought? Certainly not Jack himself.

"Glad too see myself represented on the merch," Rachel commented as she stole a piece of bacon from the pan.

"Um, that's hot," Jack pointed out. Rachel hissed and bounced the bacon back and forth between her fingers. Jack stared in dismay at the flecks of bacon grease flying everywhere.

"Girl needs a strong female role model, after all," Rachel mused as she munched on her bacon.

"I notice you left 'good' out of those adjectives," Jack noted.

Rachel shrugged. "That's what the Avengers chicks are for. She-Hulk or Ms. Marvel or Scarlet Witch. The Wasp, if she's more the girly-girl type. Me? Not so much on the 'good' part of role models." She smirked. "Which, hey: what guy doesn't love a little bit of bad girl? Not Steve."

Jack rolled his eyes as he transferred the now finished bacon from pan to plate. And tried not to think about the fact that Steve clearly didn't mind a little bit of a bad streak.

* * *

 

Steve, Sam, and Rachel all had people they wanted to see in central Florida, so Jack and Dennis relinquished their car to them and set them loose on the town. By the time everyone converged back on the house around one, Dennis had prepared a barbecue lunch, complete with tortellini salad sides and hot dogs and burgers fresh from the grill.

"We grill year-round down here," Dennis explained as he stuck the last of the serving utensils in their places. "I figured it'd be a nice change from cinnamon spice and pumpkin New York bombards you with this time of year."

As they settled around the patio table, Jack watched Steve, Sam, and Rachel carefully. They weren't looking at each other, or they _were_ looking at each other, but for too long and too significantly. Something was up. Jack turned to Dennis, to confirm his suspicions. Dennis just shot him a look that said "patience." Jack frowned and scooped some coleslaw onto his hot dog.

Sure enough, five minutes into their meal, Steve cleared his throat. "So, Dennis, Jack..."

"Here it comes," Jack muttered. The hard sell. For whatever it was.

Steve held up his hands. "It's nothing like that. We're not asking you back, we're not asking you to move, or give up anything that you've built here. It's an addition."

The first thing Jack thought was _it's a kid._ The second was _it's Rachel's kid and she doesn't want it._ Judging by the way Dennis' eyes went straight for Rachel's stomach, he was thinking the same thing. Jack glanced down, then up. Rachel didn't look amused.

"Not that kind of 'addition' you broody homos," Rachel grumbled, crossing her arms over her chest. Then she uncrossed them and gestured down at her jeans. "Seriously, do I _look_ pregnant?"

"Wishful thinking," Dennis reassured her. Then he froze, eyes going wide. Jack's head whipped around to him.

" _Wishful_?" Jack asked. His heart ached. Oh. Did... Oh. Jack rubbed at his chest.

Dennis smiled weakly back at him. "Later," he promised Jack.

Jack breathed. Oh. Oh. Could they... They could certainly afford it, with Dennis' carefully invested fortune. And Jack knew so many kids without families, kids in the foster system waiting for a home... Jack breathed again. Later. They'd had to find out what Steve wanted, first. For example.

Sam cut in. "Okay, to get on with it: we want to build a kind of superhero halfway house down here. Not for drug problems--not exclusively, at least. But the whole gambit. Heroes who catch conditions in the line of fire, like what you've been through, Jack. Or ones suffering PTSD, who need to get all the way out of New York for a while."

Steve picked up the explanation from Sam. "The Avengers have therapists and doctors all on our payroll, of course, but sometimes people need more than talking. Sometimes they need a while change of scenery."

"And they need someone who knows how to stay out of it," Jack finished the thought. "Successfully retired supers. Like us."

"You don't have to say yes," Steve cautioned them. "You already have a lot on your plates."

"Especially if you're planning on a new _addition_ ," Rachel pointed out, not a little touchy. She patted her stomach and scowled.

Dennis shook his head. "Depends on the size of the operation. And, uh, though we'd of course be happy to be a part of something like this, our bank accounts..."

Steve shook his head. "Tony Stark is paying for it all, of course. Well, one of his foundations."

"I think Jan is funding it as well," Rachel added. "Some scholarship program or something. Supers who want to get out but have some sort of lingering problems, like contamination, illness, mental disorders."

"It's a potentially massive undertaking," Jack pointed out. "Dennis and I, we've been successful so far because we've been working with organizations that are already established. Habitat for Humanity, the Central Florida Catholic Dioceses-"

Steve perked up at that. Dennis smiled. "The priests at the local churches have been working with the local homeless for decades now. Their network has been invaluable."

Jack tapped the table with his index finger. "If you want to send one or two ex-supes down here at a time, sure, we can handle that. But I have a feeling that whatever number you're thinking of now, you need to triple it. And then square it. And then triple it again. Because unless you limit this to current Avengers members only or something, we're going to have a flood of supers to deal with."

"It's going to be like _My Blue Heaven_ , without Steve Martin to lighten things up," Dennis agreed.

Sam held up his hands. "We're not franchising it just yet. We've got one or two guys lined up right now that we think could really benefit from this. And if it does succeed and we need to expand, then we'll deal with that when we come to it."

Jack checked with Dennis, who shrugged. Jack snorted. "Why am I even asking you: you'd agree to a hundred of these programs, no matter how impossible."

Dennis grinned. "Well then, what about you?"

Jack frowned, dropping his chin down as he thought. Of course he would love to help with something like that, but he had to be reasonable. Dennis and his days weren't completely packed, it was true, but it was nice to have some down time together, just the two of them. In fact, it was vital to their continued ability to stay out of things, keep out of trouble, those quiet moments in between the chaos. Helped remind them why they'd given up the spandex and the late nights and the bruises, trading them in for crinoline princess dresses and early mornings and chicken pox. Jack, even more than Dennis, needed that reminder.

Because Dennis, technically, could go back to it all if he wanted to. Dennis had no real reason to stay out of the game. Jack was at home with Bucky, he had the gym and supplies and training, still. And Dennis didn't have a disease flowing through his veins, waiting to pounce the second he got a bloody nose, a busted lip, a stab wound, a bullet graze. But Dennis, of course, had never been into it like Jack. Never _needed_ to go out, to patrol, to be the good boy and do Cap proud. Never felt the compulsion to get hurt, to hurt 'em back. Dennis wasn't the Nomad: that was all Jack. The wanderer, the rootless. Jack needed reminding, day in and day out, why he didn't put on the spandex just one more time and sneak out. That's why they made sure they still had time for themselves, why they didn't over-schedule, why they didn't force themselves into too much of a routine.

But then again, there was someone out there just like him, apparently. Someone who needed their own reasons for giving it up, for living life normal. And Steve was the one asking, so who was Jack kidding? He'd always say yes for Steve.

"Trial-basis," Jack cautioned. "We've never done something like this before. Helping kids find homes or families get back on their feet isn't anything like making current supers into ex-supers. There's a hell of a world of difference."

Steve nodded understandingly. "Of course. If you two gave it an honest try, that's even more than I could ask for. It's entirely up to you."

Jack shrugged, looked back at Dennis, who was of course smiling encouragingly. Jack nodded as slowly plans clicked together in his head. "Yeah, okay. We can give it a try. But there's a lot of top-down planning that needs to happen before you fly anyone down here. Can we get in touch with Stark's foundation?"

Steve handed Jack a card. "They're already waiting for your call."

Jack hummed. No pressure there, then.

Tucking the card into his pocket, Jack nodded at the tortellini salad. "Okay guys, come on: dig in. Dennis was basing his serving sizes on a group of super-humans, not Bucky's kindergarten class."

Rachel sneered as she dug a serving spoon into the pasta. "I thought I was looking kinda fat?"

Dennis smiled helplessly. "We're never going to hear the end of that, are we?"

"No." The tortellini plopped emphatically down on Rachel's plate.

* * *

 

Bucky held fast to Steve's hand as she led him through the parking lot. "And _that's_ the tram that takes us to the monorails. And _those_ take us to the park." She squinted up at Steve. "Is this your first time at Disney?"

Steve nodded down at her. "You know, I think it is?"

Bucky nodded firmly. "It's okay: I know _everything_."

"I bet you do."

As the monorail whisked them away to the Magic Kingdom, all six of them managed to fit into the same cab. " _Please stand clear of the doors,_ " Bucky recited dutifully. " _Por favor, alejado de las puertas._ "

Steve's eyebrows shot up. "She speaks Spanish?"

Jack snorted. "No, just that." He rubbed the back of his head. "Maybe we DO take her here too much..."

Steve was practically pressed up against the window, smiling out on the Florida swampland as it sped by. "Oh, I don't know if there's such a thing as too much Disney." Steve looked up when a little hand started tugging on his. Wordlessly, Bucky lifted his big hand and stuck it on one of the upright poles. She nodded once he took hold of it, then went back to people watching.

"For safety," Dennis whispered at Steve. He nodded back knowingly.

"Right. My mistake."

First thing was first: cotton candy. Then Pirates of the Caribbean. Then the Jungle Cruise. Bucky crawled into Steve's lap during the cave section: it was still a little too spooky for her. Sam tried to splash water on Dennis, until he got reprimanded by the tour boat "Captain."

"Please keep your hands inside the boat at all times."

Bucky glared at Sam. " _Uncle Sam_ ," she hissed.

Sam managed to pull his expression to something appropriate shame-faced and tucked his arms into his chest. Dennis splashed him back when the tour guide wasn't looking.

"IT'S A SMALL WORLD," screeched Bucky, dragging Steve inexorably forward to the ride. "THIS IS THE BEST ONE, UNCLE STEVE."

As soon as they were in line they could hear the catchiest tune on earth drifting up to them from the ride below. Steve scratched his head. "Why is this her favorite?"

Tugging at Steve's cargo shorts, Bucky lifted up her arms until Steve lifted her up. "This is the ride Daddy likes," Bucky explained. Steve frowned and looked at Jack in question.

Jack knew what Bucky meant, of course. "This is the pub quiz ride, isn't that right?" He asked Bucky. Bucky nodded firmly.

"Daddy, he, uh: Daddy knows _all_ the countries. And we play a game, we play, Daddy: show Uncle Steve!"

Jack nodded. "Okay, so pretend like we're in... Finland! It's a small world after all, it's a small world after all..."

"Finland's capital is Helsinki! They're up... Up here." Bucky pointed at an imaginary map. "Oh, oh! And Simo Hayha is from Finland, the White Death." Bucky wiggled her fingers dramatically. "He killed over five hundred Russian soldiers."

Jack wondered if he should pretend to be embarrassed. One of the mothers in front of him certainly shot him a disapproving look, but what else was new. Steve wasn't looking _overly_ thrilled, either.

"I run out of interesting facts, eventually," Jack admitted. "I mean, how many interesting things do you know about Finland?"

Sam stuck out his hand and high-fixed Bucky. "I think it's pretty neat. Smart kid." Bucky grinned.

They were just heading for Tomorrowland (Jack's favorite part, ironically enough) when Jack and Dennis both pulled up short at the same time. Sam, Steve, and Rachel kept walking for a few feet before realizing they were leaving the rest of the party behind. Jack turned to Dennis, who was holding Bucky. "You see anyone?"

Dennis shook his head even as he looked around. "No, you?"

Jack was looking with him. In front of them, clinging to the fence that lined the center lake, was a little boy sobbing his eyes out. Jack was scanning the crowds for the sight of a frantic mother or father. None in sight.

Steve drew level with the two of them, figuring out quickly enough what they were talking about. He frowned at the crying child. "We have to do something. We can't just-"

Jack nodded and took Bucky from Dennis' arms. "Yeah, I know. I've got this. Bucky, you want to help me talk to this little boy?"

Bucky nodded seriously, eyes trained on the crying boy.

Jack shifted her to the other side as he turned to the group. "Rachel, you mind coming with? They tend to trust women more." Jack hesitated, glancing over at Sam and Steve. "That makes it sound like I've done a lot of time snatching children. Um."

Steve waved Jack off. "I get it. Go. Rachel?"

Rachel grumbled and tugged up her sunglasses. "Fine. But you do the talking. I'm not so good with kids."

Bucky peered at Rachel as Jack started towards the still screaming little boy. " _I_ think you're nice, Ms. Rachel."

Rachel smirked, unconvinced, and patted Bucky on the head. "Alright, midget. Thanks."

Jack reached the little boy and squatted down, setting Bucky next to him. "Hey, kid. You lose your parents?"

The little boy's tears dried up fast as he peered up at Jack, then Rachel, then finally settled on Bucky.

"Hi." Bucky stepped forward and patted him on the shoulder. "I'm Bucky. This is my daddy. We can help."

"I can't find Mommy," the little boy sniffed. Tears started to well up again.

Just when Jack was going to call out to Rachel, Bucky stepped forward and wrapped the boy up in a hug. The tears abated. "It's okay. We'll find her." She pulled back, keeping both hands on the boy's shoulder. "What's your name?"

"Michael," the little boy told her.

Bucky nodded seriously. "Do you know your mommy's name?"

Michael nodded back. "It's Terry. Terry Bradford."

Bucky patted his shoulders. "That's good! My daddy can find your mommy for you now. Right, daddy?"

Jack nodded. "If it's okay with you, we can go to a special building they have here just for finding lost mommies. They'll call her name out over the speakers and she'll know where to find you. Do you want to come with us?"

Michael glanced at Bucky, then Rachel, then back at Bucky. Not looking at Jack, he nodded.

Immediately Bucky pulled down her Pocahontas sunglasses and took his hand. "Come on. I'll make sure you don't get lost again." Bucky reached up and wrapped her other hand around Jack's pant leg. She nodded at him.

Together, the three of them started off for the lost and found. As they passed their group, Sam murmured to Jack: "Do this often?"

Jack shrugged. "At least once every time we're here. Thankfully Disney has a whole system in place. Tom down at lost and found will get this sorted out."

Ten minutes--and one stop for Mickey Mouse ice cream on a stick--later, Jack waved at a balding, somewhat stout man behind the lost and found desk. Tom waved back, then laughed.

"Found another one, did we?"

Jack shrugged, rubbed a hand over the back of his neck. "I don't go around looking for them, you know."

Tom waved Jack aside and focused on Michael. He crouched down level with him and smiled. "Hey, sport. You lose your parents?"

Michael licked at his ice cream-coated fingers. "Mmhmm."

"Can you tell me your name?"

"Michael Bradford. My mommy's name is Terry Bradford."

Tom nodded. "And your mommy is here with you today?"

Michael nodded.

Tom stuck out a lollipop pulled seemingly from thin air. "Well alright, Michael. We'll find your mom in two shakes of a Tinkerbell. Who's your favorite Disney character?"

"Aladdin?" Michael tried, cautiously.

A moment later Michael was playing in a little play-area off the lobby, one-size too-big Aladdin t-shirt draped over his ice cream-smeared shirt he had walked in wearing. Bucky was with him, showing him the coolest toy options the area had to offer him.

"Would a Terry Bradford please report to the lost and found? Terry Bradford, to the lost and found. Terry Bradford, your child is at the lost and found. Terry Bradford, to the lost and found at front of the park." Tom hung up the intercom phone and smiled at the group in front of him. "Not your usual pack, Jack."

Jack smiled ruefully. "Some friends are visiting from out of town. This is Steve, Sam, and Rachel."

Tom shook their hands in turn. "Pleasure to meet you. You know we see Jack at least once a month, some lost kid tagging along at his heels. We're going to have to give him an annual pass or something, thanks to how many headaches he saves our park rangers."

Dennis beamed and reached out to squeeze Jack's arm. Jack, for his part, just looked shamefaced. He shrugged at Steve. "You wondered how we stayed out of trouble. Answer is: we don't, so much. But we don't do all the leg work ourselves, either."

Ten minutes later Michael's mother burst into the lost and found in a panic, head swinging every direction before she spotted her boy. "Michael!"

As mother and son were reunited, Bucky's wiped her palms on her jean shorts and stood. She stepped over to Tom and smiled up at him. "Hi Mr. Tom."

"Hello Ms. Bucky. And I suppose you want your reward?"

Bucky put on a very serious face. "Heroes don't ask for rewards."

Tom shrugged. "Oh, then I guess I'll have to give these Minnie ears to someone else..."

Bucky's little face twisted into the most terrible expression of longing and loss. She stared at the Minnie ears as Tom set them on the counter, hands clenching and unclenching into tiny fists.

"Heroes don't ask for rewards," she repeated, voice small.

Jack shot a glance back at Steve, whose heart was clearly melting. He actually had his hands pressed to his chest.

Putting Bucky out of her misery, Jack nodded over at Tom, who winked back.

"You know," Tom picked up the hat. "I think we're going to have to _insist_ that Ms. Bucky accepts this reward. Park policy."

Bucky's head shot up and she met Jack's eyes. She pointed at Tom. "He says he has to sinsist!"

Jack sighed and shrugged. "Well, I guess it's alright, then. Go on."

Bucky jumped a straight foot into the air, snatching the Minnie ears off the counter before anyone could change their minds. Jack reached out to help her with the elastic string, only to have Bucky stubbornly scamper out of reach. He snorted as she positioned them oh-so-carefully on herself.

"I want one," Steve whispered as they left the building. Rachel froze, looking around for a quick escape. When Steve realized everyone was looking at him (or pointedly NOT looking at him), he clarified: "Er. Ears. I want a pair of those mouse ears. Would that be silly?"

Jack snorted and patted Steve on the back. "We'll get you a pair, big guy. Come on."

End of the day saw Bucky and Steve both sound asleep on the monorail to the parking lot, matching mouse ear hats askew. Bucky was snuggled in Steve's lap, thumb in her mouth (still hadn't broken that habit), Minnie Mouse ears slumped halfway over her head, which was pressed firmly to Steve's thigh. Steve had one hand covering her small back, the other clutched around a bag with an (egregiously expensive) picture of them on Thunder Mountain together, matching mouse ears and all. His head rested against the side of the monorail, mouth open. He might have even been drooling a little.

 _Click. Sgridge scridge scridge._ Jack glanced over at Dennis, who was thumbing the wheel of the disposable camera. He smiled over at Jack. "You're going to want that picture, I know you."

Jack ducked his head to hide his smile and shrugged. Yeah. Probably have copies made and everything. Send it to the Avengers as a gift, one old partner of Cap's to his current teammates.

* * *

 

Two days later and Dennis was sitting in the front of a packed car once more, ready to take Steve and co back to the airport. Steve closed the trunk on the last of his luggage and turned to Jack.

"It's been a pleasure, as always," Steve said, sticking out his hand.

Jack shook it and smiled, stamping down the sudden urge to ask Steve for one more team-up, one more night out together, one more go at Doctor Faustus or the Red Skull. It was a crazy, stupid urge. One he didn't even want to give in to: like a ten-year quit smoker smelling their favorite brand suddenly overcome with the desire to light up. He didn't actually want to go out with Steve, and he'd say no if the opportunity was presented to him. But that urge would probably never go away, that gut reaction in the face of crime, of people in need. Or in the face of Steve, who was out there day in and day out, fighting that fight.

A tug at his jeans' leg. Bucky's peering up at him sadly, one arm extended. Jack smiled and bent down to pick her up. He kissed her, eyes closed as he smelled her Johnsons and Johnsons shampoo. And there it was. His reason not to fight. His reason to keep making the world a better place in _this_ way, not _that_ way. Jack opened his eyes and smiled at Steve.

Bucky held her arms out and Steve scooped her up happily, tossing her up, spinning her around. Jack watched his eyes, trained on nothing but Bucky, glimmering with hope and sadness. Maybe someday. In spite of Steve's track record with kids and all.

"Tony's going to be in contact with you shortly," Steve promised, tearing his attention away from Bucky at last. "Don't, uh... Just let him spend whatever money he's going to spend, okay?"

Jack snorted. "Says the man from experience?"

Steve nodded, eyes wide. "He's impossible. But he's a good man with a generous heart, and a bank account that can thankfully match it. If he gets too out of control you can try to rein him in, but. Just be forewarned."

"Got it."

"I don't want you to go," Bucky whimpered, snuffling against Steve's neck. Steve's expression melted and he stroked her hair wistfully.

"Oh, sweetheart. It's okay. I'm sure your dads will bring you to see me in New York soon enough. Maybe for Christmas, or New Years?"

Jack winced. "I've heard stories about the Avengers Christmas parties..."

Steve chuckled. "Well, maybe just to see the snow, then. January or February sometime. Kids can't grow up without seeing snow, that's just...unnatural."

"Says the super soldier to the other super soldier living with his strength-augmented boyfriend raising their adopted daughter..." Jack started as he took Bucky from Steve.

Steve just smiled, stroking Bucky's hair one more time. "I didn't hear anything 'wrong' in that, Jack."

Jack ducked his head and nodded. "Well. Alright."

Steve coughed and patted Jack manfully on his shoulder. "Alright, then. See you soon. You too, darling."

Jack and Bucky waved at the group as they backed out of the driveway. They kept waving as the car puttered down the street and out of sight. Finally Jack sighed and turned to Bucky, putting on a brave face. "Why don't we watch a happy movie?"

But Bucky shook her head. "I want a sad movie to match my tummy."

Jack nodded and bounced her lightly in his arms as he trudged back into his house. "Alright. A sad movie to match your sad tummy. Sounds like a plan."

As Jack shut the front door behind them, Bucky whispered: "But not  _Land Before Time._ That's _too_ sad."

"Of course."

* * *

 

When they returned from volunteering at the soup kitchen that Saturday morning, Jack's hackles went up. Someone had been at their house. Motioning at Dennis to take Bucky, Jack pulled a stun disk from his bag and started inside.

He stopped short in the kitchen when he realized what had happened: Stark generosity. Right.

"It's alright, come on," Jack waved Bucky and Dennis inside.

Dennis whistled at the kitchen as he set Bucky down to run free. "Look at all these appliances. This is stuff that's not even on the market."

Jack stuck his head into the freezer. Sub zero. Cool. (Heh.)

"Gail's going to be asking to borrow our kitchen for the block party," Dennis observed as he poked at a... box, machine? Jack peered at the label. Bread maker, oh. Huh. Why would they want to make bread?

"Daddy, the TV is talking to me!"

Jack jogged into the living room just in time to watch Bucky greet the TV.

"Hello Mr. TV."

"Hello Miss Bucky."

Bucky's giggled and pointed at it. "See, Daddy?!"

Jack nodded, eyes wide. Okay. Stark generosity. Steve had warned him.

"Miss Bucky, what channel would you like to watch?"

Bucky grinned at the TV. "Thirty-four."

"Nickelodeon. ... I'm sorry, the current program on Nickelodeon is rated Y-13. My parental blocks indicate you are only rated for Y-7."

Bucky glared at the TV. "I hate it."

Jack sighed and turned towards the kitchen. "Dennis-"

Dennis waved at him, already punching the numbers into the phone on the wall. "I'm on it, I'm on it. Hello, uh... Mr. Stark, please? It's Dennis Dunphy?" After a moment Dennis shrugged at Jack. "I'm on hold."

In the living room, Bucky was still arguing with the TV. "Thirty-six."

"I'm sorry, the current program on Cartoon Network is rated Y-13. My parental blocks indicate you are only rated for Y-7."

"What show can I watch?!"

The TV flipped over to something with bright primary colors and lots of shapes. Bucky screeched in dismay. "That's a baby show!"

"Um, hi, yes, Mr. Stark?" Dennis gave a thumbs-up to Jack.

Jack snorted and sat himself down on the floor alongside Bucky. Tugging her into his lap, he said "TV, uh, channel thirty-four?"

The TV flipped over and Bucky stuck her tongue out at it. Jack pressed a kiss to her hair. Everything would be alright, eventually. Really, everything already was.


End file.
